Altered Memories

Nightmares and Trauma

December 25, 2017

Ambling his way around in the dark abyss in the back of his creator's mind, Anti inhaled the calming atmosphere of the place and trying to comprehend the techniques of stress and anger alleviation that was taught yesterday from Jameson. All he got from that lesson was forcing respiration until he got lightheaded.

Exhaling his holding breath, the glitch continued his stroll in the silent darkness. But the walk doesn't feel leisurely. He suddenly felt lost... somehow. He was unable to find his way back to the giant screen of his creator's eyes, which was odd, because he'd never get lost in here, no matter where he ended up. He's usually back to the giant screen as if he's been going around in circles after a few minutes. Even though the place seems like a dark abyss, Anti can usually guide his way through it like guiding yourself around your bedroom with your eyes close.

Something was odd. For one: the atmosphere. Last time he was there, he woke up to the suffocating, foggy ambience that had replaced his reposeful room. But the room was not peaceful. It felt... ominous.

The bracelets that Marvin had snapped on him still confide him to vulnerability.

The silence was cut by spirits whispers all around him murmuring his guilt, gradually getting louder by the second with each rapid heartbeat, heightening his anxiety. His breathing turned into hyperventilation as he ran from the chasing voices. Why is it suddenly so frightening to him?!

Miraculously, before he start giving into the lightheadedness, Anti finally spot the screen and rushed to his safe zone.

Collapsing onto his blanket and pillow, having it slide like a sled that had made its short trip, Anti tried catching his breath as he huffed out, "What game are you playing today, Jack?" Everyday is a surprise to watch when his creator is playing a game, but he much prefer horror ones. Yet, it's like watching TV without a remote or choices. So you have a choice whether to stay or leave. For now, he doesn't care. This is his way to get away from life for a while.

Except today was not one of those days. Instead of a game, there were galleries of pictures. Another scroll through fan arts again? But for some reason, all of them are blank. All white rectangles lined up neatly on the page. It's like all the fan art has been erased from the files.

The arrow on the screen moved around, choosing a random white rectangle to enlarge.

All of a sudden, the chosen blank canvas has popped to life, splattering dark colors all over the page. Only to reveal an unsettling picture.

It was a picture of Anti himself, being tied by puppet strings on both wrists. His round eyes were blacken like the hollow void while red tears stained his cheeks. Crimson liquid bled out profusely from the stab and slice wounds that's littered on his torso.

Then on the top of the page, shown a face coming out of the shadows with an evil grin. His demon self as the puppeteer.

"I hope you're proud of yourself, Anti." A voice echoed around him in the darkness.

'Jack?'

He instinctively tried to spin himself around, trying to find the source of the echo, but his body was petrified in place.

Then there back on screen, the unsettling image was suddenly pulled down, like he's been watching a green screen, and Seán appeared from behind it with a stained knife in hand. His smile widen as he stare at Anti dead in the eye, like a psychopath.